Zero
by risokura
Summary: Be not afraid of growing slowly; be afraid only of standing still. Implied FangLightning


**Disclaimer: **I don't own FFXIII.****

A/N: Possibly left room to continue. No guarantees. **  
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**Zero**

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**(**_If heaven made him, earth can find some use for him_**)**

She was birthed from the cursed deity, Lindzei, descended from above, like a goddess swathed in pallid armor. Sanguine always seemed to trail after her, contrasting with the azure depths that gave her insight to the world. She was ethereal, contrasting strongly with my images of the demons in this damn vipers nest. And yet, in her existence, she was all but befitting for that world that floated above my home. Almost like a seraph that had fallen from the heavens, pulling with her the celestial sky, her own personal brand of havoc.

Etro forgive me for even beginning to fathom what it would be like to touch that skin.

Our acclimation occurred in the heat of disparity, those spiraling ice sculptures surrounding us on all sides, with the army right not too far behind us. She seemed completely absorbed with the task at hand, yelling at the dimwitted one to take care of the kid she was harboring. Naturally, I followed her. I wasn't letting this one get away that easy.

She was cutting down on PSICOM the minute I caught up with her. Her footwork was so deadly; I'd never witnessed anyone move in such a way before. I stayed out of her way until she appeared to have calmed down. When she finally _did _calm down, she sheathed that odd contraption of hers and turned to look at me, azure eyes blazing—burning—with what appeared to be unearthed questions. It was as if she was challenging me, and I would rise to meet whatever she silently or vocally threw my way. She asked me my name and I gave it. I guess I met her approval because she quickly relinquished her own, turned back around and I took that as my invitation to follow her.

By default, we were already on the same side—or perhaps she didn't see it as such. I trailed after her for a little while, seeing where she would go. Sooner or later, she would have to stop and catch her breath. Funny thing about being a l'Cie, you'd think with all these powers that the Fal'Cie bestow upon us that we'd be able to go for miles on end without rest. Nope, doesn't work that way. We all break down sooner or later and need to take a breather before we're on our way again.

On our brief downtime we called up the inept one and the kid to see where they were, and of course I gave him an abridged tongue lashing. I'd realize in a short time that it'd be best to leave violence in regards to Snow up to her. She did it best.

As I was sick of talking to Snow, I handed the line over to her so she could figure out our course of action. She wanted to make a path to decide her fate; I would give it to her. At first, she seemed confused, seemingly still trying to work her way through whatever feelings she was experiencing at the moment. Where she had seemed so sure of herself earlier on, she was waning it would appear—but now wasn't the time to be getting antsy and unsure of oneself.

I wasn't the least bit surprised when the line got jammed, but she was convinced that yelling into it was going to fix whatever interference we were experiencing. Should have expected as much with technology from Cocoon. I could tell she was getting peeved when I asked her for the communicator when it failed to work. And I thought **I **was the hotheaded one.

The first time I fought with her, I noticed an uncanny sense of … compatibility, something I'd only felt with Vanille. It was like she anticipated what I was about to do and followed up with an action of her own. Almost as if we were supporting each other without words, rather through feeling.

Or maybe I was just imagining things. Maybe she was just cutting down on as many targets as she could without a second thought to my well being. Efficiency over efficacy. Or something like that.

When we finally got a breather, she was all frowns and hard lines again. And this time, the focus on me. I should have expected as much, seeing as I just came out of the blue as I did. She was looking at my brand, a dead giveaway that there was something off about me—not that I cared in the least.

She was watching me, as if searching for some type of answer with those ice cold eyes. Yet, I shrugged dismissively in the wake of her curiosity. I guess I could entertain her with some story time while we were currently running for our lives. She'd find out all this stuff sooner or later, anyway. Besides, it was pretty entertaining when I saw those huge doe eyes enlarge and focus in on me when I told her the truth.

Where would I start this story that I was about to tell her?

Perhaps at the very beginning? Gran Pulse? My childhood with Vanille? How Cocoon ripped the foundation of my home right from under my feet when I was but a child? How I grew up, everyday wishing I could be more, **do **_**more **_for my home? Protect Vanille, protect my family, protect my home, and protect _myself _from this never ending war?

Or maybe I should start with how I challenged Anima nearly five centuries ago. Throwing caution to the wind and savagely throwing away my humanity? And Vanille … oh, how Vanille got wrapped up in all of this because of me. She was afraid on that day when we changed. I knew she was, but I was there to assure her that everything would be okay. I had business to take care of with Anima, and I wasn't going anywhere until it was done. I was prepared to take on the task alone … but she was brave on that day. She accepted her fate as I was prepared to accept mine, and the cogs of fate begin to whirl after that day.

All of that, while somewhat important, was irrelevant in this current instance. Obviously, she knew I was l'Cie, but my origins would have to stay quiet until another time. For now, she would only know of the start of this.

Of how I woke up on Cocoon with no bloody idea of how I got here in the first place.

That's when things really started to happen. That is … when I woke up … rather, Vanille an' me woke up nearly five hundred years after we'd been to sleep. I couldn't remember what had become of Gran Pulse or the people of Oerba after I woke up to find my Focus incomplete. And I hadn't realized that in those five centuries, our lives—our legacy—as they were … as they had been, were all but forgotten. I woke up with an empty mind, but my heart was in a fever. Surrounded in delirium with my body pressed firmly into the cold floor of the vestige, I knew something wasn't right. And Vanille … there was something off about how she was acting around me, as if she were hiding something from the moment we had woken up.

Her brand was still active, and yet mine was … scorched, burned, messed up. Incomplete. Broken.

There was something unsettling about the way she reacted to me whenever I asked her something. Her eyes were shifty, and her body language showed that she was hesitant. I knew something was up just from the way she was reacting to my questions, but back then I chalked it up to her simply being as confused as I was. Here we were, on Cocoon some five hundred years later … unsure of simply everything that was going on.

This world has no soul. That was my first impression of Cocoon. It was so cautious, contained, humdrum … there was no spirit in any of its inhabitants. Befitting of a viper's nest, it really was hell. How anyone could have ever lived in a world like this was beyond me. But I would have to learn to exist in it. Although discrete is far from being my middle name, I would have to learn to adapt; integrate myself into this cursed society. If it brought me one step closer to completing my focus, I would gladly do it.

The time I spent in Bodhum was deplorable to say the least. From the food (bland and tasteless), to the people and just the overall culture—excuse me, **lack **of culture—everything was repugnant. There were also a lot of fools in this city. From the wildlife, to the people, everything seemed to have some type of sublevel form of intelligence about it.

There were these two idiots though—stupid as they were; they were some help to Vanille an' me. Got a free meal from the two of them and we were able to learn about the recent turn of events that had taken place in the world. Oh, for instance, how it'd been over five or six hundred years since the War of Transgression and that I had been asleep for much longer than I'd expected. But then they ran off at the mouth a bit too much for my liking, so I had to teach them a lesson—enjoyed it a great deal, actually.

After that, I encountered her sister. _Serah_. Small, feeble and hapless Serah. She was just …lying there when we returned. My first instinct had been to kill her, she had trespassed into our territory, an action I found nearly unforgivable. But then I saw that she had been branded and … the only thing that consumed my mind was that Anima … a _Gran Pulse _Fal'Cie had branded someone from **Cocoon**. It was telling us that we were being replaced; I could see it—**feel **it.

I wouldn't fail again.

Eventually, our path would lead us to Euride. Thought maybe if we struck up some trouble, we might figure out a thing or two about what we were supposed to do or why we were on Cocoon. No dice. The only thing it did was separate me from Vanille and ultimately led to my capture by Raines and his Calvary. I was sparse in my details concerning what happened up till now when I appeared here in Palumpolum with Snow. It really didn't matter.

All she had to know that I was here to finish this Focus and time was running out for me to find Vanille—wherever she was.

We traveled as I told her my story, finding somewhere we could talk without being disturbed by adversary. She was quiet as I relayed the events leading up to the point in time, often grunting lowly under her breath or crossing and uncrossing her arms over her chest. She would also pace, _slowly, _taken in all that I said and processing it quietly.

Finally, she asked me about her sister waking up—the first thing she had said to me during the entire time I began relaying the past course of events to her. And I answered, figuring the least I could do was apologize for the whole mess. For her sister. For Cocoon being in such an uproar about this whole l'Cie business. ...And I suppose, ultimately, for shaking up the support for which her world laid on.

I heard her walk toward me, so I looked up expecting her to say something. Her eyes honed in on me, as if I were prey. …And then she slapped me. She _bloody_ slapped me.

It was like I had the air whipped right out of me, my entire jaw stung with the force of her hit. And those eyes—the azure eyes. Aggravated, detached, angry, menacing—afraid. At least I had apologized for dragging her into this whole mess. I thought at least _that _much would have almost gotten me off the hook. Guess not.

Lightning wasn't one for words. I'd learned that right off the bat. So I asked her if that was all she had to say—or wanted to do in her case. I wasn't even pissed when she told me it didn't help any. Guess she was acting on impulse back there.

And she was interesting. All of her that is, not just her pretty face, of course.

Little by little, I was beginning to understand who she was to some degree. She was always telling others to stay calm, rational and focused, yet she seemed to be the one that got the most riled up out of all of us. Case in point, when I first met her. Always frowning, or looking rushed and hurried. Not frightened, kind of alert … but more like frazzled. She was amazing with strategy, but underneath that cool exterior, it seemed like she was trying to stifle something. It was a mask she wore. Perhaps it was the desperate air of our current situation, or perhaps this was just who she was.

Either way, now that she knew the truth, I was relieved. Didn't feel like I was hiding anything from her anymore, but I could tell that she was angry. No sense in crying over spilled milk, I say.

She seemed to look to me for the little things on our way through Palumpolum. Be it need of assurance, to just questions about this whole l'Cie business. Sometimes … I think gorgeous wasn't as sure of herself as she once thought she was. But then, if I put myself in her shoes (_boots, really_) I suppose she was right in feeling the way she did. Turning on your home …destroying the place you were supposed to protect and cherish. Couldn't possibly fathom the thought, nor did I want to.

But I think … she was beginning to accept her fate. Or her new purpose as it currently was.

Being with her, I came to a few conclusions about my own past that had been swirling within my fogged up memories. If my brand had been scorched and burned off … and I had gone into crystal stasis …that would have meant that the first Focus I had been given was completed. And yet … my memories, they still hadn't returned no matter what I did. It only meant that I would have to keep going no matter what.

I asked her if she had seen Vanille's brand, wondering if it had progressed any in my absence. I knew I'd be getting my hopes up, gorgeous couldn't have possibly known anything about what the progression of marks meant, so I told her. …And in the process, I couldn't resist examining her a bit.

Don't get me wrong, I always show the utmost respect for a woman—especially those I'm interested in—and I'm never out to make them feel uncomfortable, but she just made it so easy at times. Probably didn't help much that I told her not to be shy, because her cheeks were tinted a gentle shade only found in the roseate dawn of Gran Pulse when I turned her around. Furthermore, she acted as if she had swallowed her tongue and refused to make eye contact with me. Luckily, however, I noted her mark hadn't progressed much … meaning that if she still had time, Vanille possibly couldn't be too far off.

Hm, Light and me … we were one in the same. ...Almost.

I had a plan tied in with this whole Focus. Find Vanille, get off Cocoon, smash Cocoon into pretty little tiny bits and … well, be on my way with whatever paths opened to me after that. Light? Lost as she was, I had to remind her that she had someone who was waiting for her after all of this was over. Her sister.

We both had someone that we had to look after. Who we needed to care for. Who, in a sense, depended on us in some way. Don't get me wrong, Vanille is more than capable of taking care of herself if the time calls for it, but I feel responsible for her. Especially when we were both made into l'Cie. All my wishes of protecting her and keeping her safe doubled tenfold. I couldn't possibly live with myself knowing that she would possibly become a Cie'th while I survived her in all of this. It was my fault she got involved, and I would make it my sworn duty during my lifetime to see this entire thing through to the end with her by my side.

Lightning? I didn't know what her story was, or what her life was like before any of this but I knew Serah was her family. I knew what it was like to feel helpless because you couldn't look after the ones you cared about. I wouldn't let her go through the same feelings of hopelessness that I was currently feeling in regards to Vanille's whereabouts. So I told her to snap out of her pity party and tell her that she _did _have a future to look forward to. Who said that being l'Cie would be the end of this all? _Who said_? Regardless of the fact that I had an incomplete Focus, I had woken up again—and there was always a chance that Serah would too.

But as always, just as I was on the verge of convincing her, Lady Luck … happened to _not _be on my side in this one instance and it appeared that while we were out of the woods for the time being—Snow and the kid were a completely different story all together.

Looks like I'd be playing hero again, today.


End file.
